


the mirror is a liar, darling; gaze upon your reflection in our eyes instead

by queenhomeslice



Series: Polyship Roadtrip: Reader/Chocobros [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, OT5, Self-Esteem Issues, bad body image, everyone is bisexual I guess, fat reader, plus size reader, reader loves her four boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: After missing a date with the guys due to a bad body day, Prompto, Gladio, Ignis, and Noctis come to your apartment, worried sick and determined to make you feel better.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia/Reader
Series: Polyship Roadtrip: Reader/Chocobros [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788748
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51





	the mirror is a liar, darling; gaze upon your reflection in our eyes instead

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.

Somewhere in your muddled brain, you hear a knock on your front door—then the click of a key inserted into the lock, the squeak of the old hinges, the shuffling of designer footwear inside, hushed whispers, rustling of paper bags, the flick of a light switch-- 

“Ah, Gladiolus, help me--” says Ignis. 

“What happened?” Noct’s voice is quiet, small—sad. 

“Looks like her closet threw up,” Gladio chuckles deeply. 

“Okay Igster, I put the food on the counter like you said, and got out plates and cups--” Prompto cuts himself off. “Shit, it looks like a hurricane went through here!” 

“Quiet Prom, I think she’s sleeping...?” Noct’s voice hitches at the end. 

“Is that why she missed our date?” 

You can’t see them—face tear-stained and buried in the pillows and all that—but you can see his frown in your mind’s eye. 

“Dunno, maybe? She never answered our calls or texts...s’not like her.” 

Shuffling towards the bed, warm hand on your bare shoulder, another pulling your hair back from your face-- 

“Shit, her face is all wet.” That’s Prompto, keeping his long fingers in your thick hair, stroking. 

“Crying?” 

“It’s easy to guess what’s occurred,” comes Ignis’ voice—from inside the closet? Distant but close. 

“It is?” --Noctis and Prompto, confused. 

A deep sigh—Gladio. “Clothes everywhere, not answering her phone, crying herself to sleep...her self-esteem must be in the tank today.” 

Prompto clicks his tongue. “Ah.” If anyone understands insecurity, it’s Prompto. 

“But why?” asks Noctis. “She’s so pretty.” 

“Indeed,” and there’s Ignis again, emerging from the closet, shutting the door. “However, we tend to be our own worst critics.” 

You sniff hard, shoving your face further into the pillows, the first signs of life you’d given the guys since they let themselves in. 

“Hey, she moved!” Prompto’s voice is bright, hopeful. You feel him lean down to press a soft kiss next to your ear. “Hey beautiful. We were worried about you...are you okay?” 

You shake your head and curl into yourself, feeling more than exposed in just your black bra and underwear. 

“I suppose a night in is in order,” says Ignis. “I think a cheesy film marathon would pair well with our steak dinners.” 

Gladio chuckles. “Nice thinkin’, Iggy. I’ll go get Netflix up and going.” 

“Well,” says Noctis, shrugging. “Do we have to stay in our fancy clothes?” 

“Pretty sure we’ve all left sweatpants here at some point,” laughs Prompto. “We should change.” 

“We _will_ be folding these clothes,” says Ignis, opening your closet again and finding spare hangers. “These suits were tailor-made, after all. If we can avoid wrinkles, you two, I’d appreciate it.” 

You hear the three guys strip, the open and closing of dresser drawers in the aftermath, searching for their spare loungewear. Your voice comes out cracked as you call out, “Bottom two left drawers.” 

“The angel speaks!” laughs Prompto, bounding back to the bed. 

Suddenly there’s a warm weight on top of you, and he’s nuzzling into the side of your face. “C’mon, chocobabe. We got dinner to go from the restaurant. We’re gonna watch bad movies and have a fancy dinner at home.” 

Finally you turn, looking through bleary eyes at the pretty blond face that’s inches from yours. 

“There’s my girl,” Prompto whispers, thumbing away the fresh tears from under your left eye. “You scared us.” 

“Sorry,” you croak out. 

Noctis comes into your peripheral vision, and you snap your watery eyes up to his. He’s already shirtless, in some old comic-book print pajama bottoms he keeps in your dresser. “Hey __________,” he says softly, coming right up to the bed. “What’s wrong?” 

“Your closet totally vomited,” giggles Prompto, wiping away more of your tears as you gaze into Noct’s deep blue eyes. 

“I just—nothing looked right. Every dress I put on, in the mirror, I just—and then you guys all sent me pictures of your suits, and I just...” You shake your head, thoughts coming in erratic and stuttered. “You all are so handsome, and I’m just...fat and ugly and I...I just don’t _belong_...” 

“Stop that,” says Prompto softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “We don’t want anyone else except for you. Don’t you realize that we _like_ that you’re fat?” 

You shake your head, squinting your eyes and sniffing hard again. “You deserve someone...so much prettier...” 

Noctis shrugs. “I think they would be impossible to find,” he says, reaching out to stroke your hair. “You’re already very beautiful. How could we want anyone else?” 

“What’s all this, then?” asks Ignis, approaching the bed. 

“TV’s all ready to go,” says Gladio, coming back in the room. Then he whistles low. “Damn, and I thought you three looked good _in_ suits, and now you’re _out_ of them.” 

Ignis snorts. “Bottom left drawers, Gladio, for loungewear. Please hang that suit up—there are spare hangers on the closet door handle, there.” 

“You keep giving me orders in sweatpants and a t-shirt, Iggy, and you won’t be wearing them for long.” 

Prompto laughs. 

“No self-control,” Ignis mutters as Gladio moves to change from his formal wear. 

Noctis rolls his eyes at his shield as he steps back and lets Ignis get near the bed. 

Prompto sits up on his haunches, slender body still on top of yours, as Ignis leans down to kiss you gently on the lips. 

“Might I see those pretty ______ eyes, darling?” 

Reluctantly, you open your eyes again to see Ignis’ emerald eyes shining at you with adoration. “There she is. Hello, kitten. You gave us quite a fright when you didn’t answer our calls.” 

“M’sorry,” you mutter, and really, you are. “I didn’t mean to, I just--” You sigh. “I guess I had a panic attack. And I just...I hate the way I look. I can’t believe that you guys like me.” 

“ _Like_ is a gross understatement,” says Ignis, smirking. He runs his bare hand down your neck, over the curve of your breast, finally settling it on your squishy ribs, where he squeezes gently. “We love every inch of you, inside and out. Your brain is a fabulous liar, darling. We don’t want anyone else.” 

“Do I have to fuck the sad out of you?” asks Gladio, finally in his own pair of sweatpants and old graphic t-shirt. 

You crack a small smile and huff out something like a laugh. 

“There’s our happy woman,” says Ignis, kissing you again and rising. “We’ve cleaned up your dresses and shoes. Allow us to help you change?” 

You nod slowly, finally turning over and sitting up. Noctis takes initiative and steps up to the bed, running his hands over your shoulders and back, rough hands teasing along your bra straps, trailing lower until he reaches the hooks. 

You groan softly at the relief of being free from the underwire, taking off your bra and throwing it to the side. You look up, finally, and meet Gladio’s honey gaze. He grins wickedly and throws a nightgown at you. 

It hits you in the face, and you laugh fully, plush body shaking with amusement. 

Prompto grins as you poke your head and arms through the holes, shifting the soft cotton dress over your torso. 

“I’ll go plate our dinners,” says Ignis, taking your hand in his and dusting your knuckles with his soft, full lips. 

You shiver at the tenderness and nod, flicking your gaze to Prompto. “Carry me to the couch?” you ask shyly. 

Prompto grins and flexes, muscle shirt showing off all of his arms and most of his lean abdomen. “Of course, baby. What else are these guns good for?” 

Noctis clicks his tongue. “I mean, s’not like you swore an oath to protect me with your life or anything.” 

Prompto laughs as he climbs from the bed and scoops you up in his arms. You bury your face in his warm, pale neck, reaching over his shoulder for Noctis. 

The prince grabs your hand and shuffles awkwardly behind Prompto out of the bedroom and to your living room. Gladio swats him on the ass and turns off your bedroom light as he follows the three of you to the couch. 

Later, after dinner has been devoured and many groans of second-hand embarrassment have been exchanged, Gladio carries you back into your bedroom, where your four boyfriends show you just how much they love you—and your body. 


End file.
